


The Case of the Missing Husband

by demented_queen



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: AU non ZA, Humor, M/M, Phone Sex, Rick's bad phone sex skills, Shane TRYING to quote poetry, cold pizza, stake out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5055979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demented_queen/pseuds/demented_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's my entry for the phone sex thing.</p><p>Rick is on a stake out with Shane when his partner goes out for food.  Then he calls Daryl and they do the phone sex thing.</p><p>Neither one of them quite understands the whole idea of how it works.  (Don't worry.  They work out the kinks).</p><p>And Shane and Rick are sheriff's deputies in King County in a non-ZA reality because there were no phones in canon, except for that one time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Missing Husband

  
  
  
“Hey,” Rick said into his cell phone when his lover answered his call.  
  
“Hey yourself,” Daryl drawled into the phone.  “Where are you?”  
  
“On a stake out.  With Shane,” Rick sighed.  
  
“Stake out, huh?  Sounds fun,” Daryl snickered.  “Staking out some hot piece a ass or…”  
  
“The woman’s name is Marge Humphfrey.  She weighs over three hundred and fifty pounds.  Her husband’s been missing since Tuesday.  The Chief thinks she might know something so we’re here, watchin' the house.  See if she goes anywhere suspicious.  But if you ask me,” Rick said as he lowered his voice, “the guy weighed like a hundred pounds soaking wet.  I don’t think he’s missing.  I think she ate him.”  
  
Rick could hear Daryl snickering on the other end.  “There you go.  You just solved the case.”  
  
“Yeah well, since I don’t think the Chief would get a court order for a doctor to go through the contents of her stomach, we’re stuck here,” Rick sighed again.  
  
“Shane listening in?” Daryl asked quietly.  
  
“Oh no, he’s out gettin’ some food.  I called as soon as he left.  We’re sorta all alone,” Rick smiled into the phone.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Daryl said, Rick imagining only too well the sly smile that just came over his lover’s face.  
  
“That was a dirty ‘oh yeah’ if there ever was one,” Rick laughed.  
  
“So,” Daryl said seductively, “whacha wearing?”  
  
“What am I…?  I’m wearing a Captain America costume!” Rick scoffed.  “What do ya think I'm wearing?!  I’m wearing clothes Daryl.  It’s a stake out!  Not Comic Con!”  
  
“You’re not very good at this phone sex thing,” Daryl huffed over the phone.  
  
“Phone…phone sex?!” Rick sputtered as he took a sip of his cold coffee, spitting some of the liquid onto the dashboard.  “Is that what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously, whispering into the phone as he put the coffee cup back onto the dash without its lid.  
  
“Yes Rick!  Yes!  Thought we could have some sexy jerk off time!” Daryl said.   
  
“‘M supposed to be watching the house,” Rick said.  
  
“Well…can you see the house?” Daryl asked.  
  
“Yes,” Rick said as he looked at the quaint little cottage.  
  
“Then watch the damn house while I talk dirty to ya!” Daryl huffed.  
  
“That’s weird,” Rick said.  
  
“What’s weird?” Daryl asked.  
  
“You talkin’ dirty to me while I’m at work,” Rick said.  
  
“You’re not at work.  You’re in a damn car in front of the house of Marge the Humpback whale waitin' for Shane to come back with your food!” Daryl said.  
  
“But technically speakin,’” Rick said, “I’m on the clock.”  
  
“Oh technically speaking,” Daryl said.  “Well, technically speaking, I’m on the phone with a cock-blocking moron right now.”  
  
“If you’re trying to get me into a phone sex mood, you’re going ‘bout it all wrong,” Rick chastised.  “Now I’m really not in the mood.”  
  
“Oh for fucks sake.  Do you want phone sex or not?!” Daryl asked testily.  
  
“I’m thinking of claiming a phone headache right now if you don’t stop gettin' all huffy,” Rick said.  
  
“There’s no such thing as a god damned phone headache,” Daryl said, more angry and frustrated than before.  
  
Rick giggled into the phone as he kept his eyes on the house.  “You get all sexy when you’re all _riled_ up.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Daryl’s husky voice growled into the phone.  
  
And the dirty ‘oh yeah’ was back.  
  
“So…whacha wearing?” Daryl purred into the phone.  
  
“I’m wearing those jeans you like,” Rick said as he smiled into the phone, biting into his lip.  
  
“Them tight ones?  The black ones?” Daryl asked hungrily.  
  
“Yeah,” Rick moaned.  “And I’m zipping them open right now,” Rick said, bringing the phone to his crotch so Daryl could hear the sound of the zipper as he lowered it.  
  
“Oh,” Daryl moaned into the phone.  “I bet you’re wearing those blue pair of boxers too under there.  Under them tight jeans of yours.”  
  
“Yeah, I am,” Rick groaned as he ran his hand over his boxer-clad cock.  “And I’m touching myself through them, thinking ‘bout you…”  
  
“That’s right, baby,” Daryl murmured.  “Rub yourself thinking of me.”  
  
“Baby?” Rick said.  
  
“Rick, we talked ‘bout this.  It’s cute…and _sexy_ ,” Daryl said.  
  
“Okay,” Rick said as he shook his head clear and continued to run his hand along his cock through the fabric of his boxers, moaning in pleasure as he did so, imagining his lover lounging on the couch back at the apartment while he did the same, moaning right along with him.  “Hey Daryl?  You on the couch?”  
  
“What the...?  Yeah,” Daryl said, a bit of hesitation in his voice.  
  
“Daryl.  Where are you?” Rick asked intently.  
  
“I’m on the couch,” Daryl said, the unmistakable sound of guilt in his voice, “in the garage.”  
  
“The garage?!” Rick sputtered.  
  
“I’m taking a break.  That old fart, _Dale_ , wanted his god damned RV worked on ‘cos he’s going camping this weekend,” Daryl said.  “He’s even paying me extra.”  
  
“Well okay, that’s something.  Is the mood right though?” Rick asked hesitantly.  
  
“Is the mood…?!” Daryl spat out.  “I’m in the fucking garage and it’s fucking eight o’clock at night.  Mel’s tittie magazines are scattered everywhere and I’m looking at Glenn’s leftover pizza on the damn coffee table.  Which actually, looks pretty good.”  
  
“Don’t you dare touch that pizza while we’re…!” Rick chastised.  
  
“Rick!  Focus!  We’re having phone sex here,” Daryl said as he mumbled the last bit.  
  
“You’re eating the pizza,” Rick said, “aren’t you?”  
  
“No,” Daryl said as Rick distinctly heard the sound of swallowing.   
  
“You couldn’t even put it in the microwave?” Rick sighed.  
  
“Then I’d have to get up off the couch, walk over to the fucking microwave and heat the damn thing, while talking all dirty to you,” Daryl said.  “Sorta a mood killer.”  
  
“And you eating cold pizza isn’t?” Rick asked.  
  
“I put it down, okay?  One bite.  That was all.  Now where were we… _Oh yeah_ ,” Daryl said all sultry again.  
  
He really had a knack with the dirty ‘oh yeah.’  
  
“I just unzipped my coveralls.  I was wearing nothing under them,” Daryl purred.  
  
“Really?  Don’t that get itchy?” Rick asked.  
  
“I wasn’t really,”  Daryl sighed.  
  
“Oh right.  Mood.  So… _oh yeah_ ,” Rick whispered seductively.   
  
He could own the dirty ‘oh yeah’ just as well as his lover.  
  
“I love it when you pull them coveralls off and they sit there...just at the top of your ass,” Rick growled.  
  
“Well I’m shimmying down to my bare ass for you right now baby,” Daryl groaned.  “Oh and I’m rubbing my cock too, thinking ‘bout you, sitting in that car, rubbing yours too, your tight jeans all open and you all exposed…”  
  
Rick bit his lip as he continued to stroke his cock faster.  “You still shimmying?” Rick whimpered.  “I bet you’re squirming all over that couch…your cock getting all hard thinking ‘bout opening my ass…”  
  
“Fuck Rick!” Daryl hissed into the phone.  “God, I’m so fucking _hard_ right now, thinking ‘bout you all ready for me.”  
  
Rick could hear his lover as he stroked faster over his member, while he did the same, the windows becoming thick with steam as he breathed in and out heavily.  
  
“Hope you’re slicking your cock up, so’s it’s ready for my ass,” Rick whimpered into the phone.  
  
“Oh it’s ready baby!” Daryl snarled as Rick could make out the sounds of the springs of the garage couch, his lover no doubt writhing all over it as he became completely worked up.  
  
Rick could no longer see the house through all the steamy windows.  
  
“Oh God Daryl!” Rick whined into the phone as he stroked his cock hard and fast, thinking about the state of his lover miles away.  
  
“God damn!  I’m gonna  fuck you so hard when you get home.  Won’t even wait until you get in the door,” Daryl was shouting into the phone, his voice hoarse and broken with lust.  “Gonna fuck you right on the porch like we was animals in the…!”  
  
“Oh God!” Rick screamed as he shot his release, the last image in his head of his lover completely broken, half clothed in his coveralls and ready to fuck him in two when he got home.  
  
“Rick!” Daryl roared.  “Fuck!  Fuck!  I’m coming!  I’m coming.”  
  
The only sounds that could be heard over the phone after their mutual violent orgasms, were the sounds of their heavy breathing as both men came down from their high.  
  
“Fuck me,” Rick sobbed brokenly as he fought to catch his breath.  
  
“Oh I will,” Daryl snickered into the phone.  
  
“You still got it in you?” Rick laughed.  
  
“After I’m done with this shit show, I’ll be ready,” Daryl snickered, Rick joining in.  
  
Daryl really _hated_ working on Dale’s motor home.  
  
“Yeah, well, I gotta air out the car,” Rick said, “before Shane comes back.”  
  
And just like that, as if the Powers That Be heard Rick jinxing himself in that steamy car, the car door opened and the man himself, Shane, peeked his head inside.  “Why’re all the windows steam…oh!  _Oh!_ ” Shane said as he looked in the direction of Rick’s lap.  
  
If dying of embarrassment were an actual thing, Rick would be in the emergency room at that exact moment, a doctor above his head as he applied the paddles to his bare chest while yelling, “Clear!”  
  
“It’s not what you think,” Rick started, still holding the phone to his ear.  
  
“That Shane?  He back?” Daryl chuckled into the phone.  
  
“Thank you Captain Obvious,” Rick sighed into the phone.  
  
“You having phone sex with your hillbilly boyfriend?” Shane questioned, a smirk on his face.  
  
Okay, so it _was_ what he thought it was.  
  
“Hillbilly?!” Daryl shouted indignantly into the phone.  “That cracker…”  
  
“Let me just clean up,” Rick said as he tucked himself back into his boxers while Daryl yelled expletives into the phone, as Shane sat down in the driver's side, both men stopping when they noticed Rick’s coffee cup, moving ever so slightly on the dashboard, ripples becoming more pronounced as they sat quietly still.  
  
“Huh.  That’s just like that scene outta Jurassic Park,” Shane said.  
  
“Um,” Rick said.  
  
Suddenly the door ripped open and the lady of the house they were supposed to be watching stood back and then leaned in.  “What’re you boys doing hanging out in front of my goddamned house?” the angry woman snarled.  
  
“Um,” Rick said.  
  
God he hoped the woman didn’t _eat_ him.  
  
She looked from Rick then to Shane then down at Rick’s lap then at the windows in the car.  
  
And then she smiled.  
  
“Oh, I see,” Marge Humphrey smiled, her leer growing larger by the second.  
  
Rick wondered if she was getting a wonderful, _awful_ idea and that she planned on ruining Christmas for all of Whoville.  
  
And then all of a sudden, the leer made sense.  
  
It made sense to Shane as well as he moved in closer to Rick and put his arm around him.  
  
“We have to…um,” Shane said as he swallowed, trying hard not to throw up on his words, “sneak around because we have…um…a love that dare not speaks…it’s…um…”  
  
“Say no more,” she said as she shook her head, her hands crossed over her heart.  “Why don’t you boys come in and have a sit down?”  
  
“Um,” Rick said.  
  
“I’ll see you when you get home,” Daryl said over the phone, managing to get the words out through his fits of quiet laughter.  
  
Both men followed Marge back into the house, where they sat down, had some herbal tea (a detox tea Marge had purchased on line) and skyped with her husband, Drake, the _missing_ one, who was happy at home in a different state with his new boyfriend Miles.  It seemed that Marge had been his beard and it was _she_ who had reported Drake missing so he could live out his life happily without the interference of his family.  
  
And that was how Rick and Shane managed to close the case of the missing husband.  
  
Of course, they left some details of the stake out out of their report.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, leave a comment.
> 
> If you didn't, leave a comment anyway. 
> 
> I accept all reviews. ;P


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